Art is a deeply personal thing. We must connect with the artwork. It isnot about the artist. It is about the connection.It's 4:22 in the morning. I cannot sleep. The wrenching, agonizingdesire to write, to express something, has kept me awake. Until I writethis, I cannot shut my eyes in peace.Maybe this sounds overly-dramatic of me. But it is true. On most days,the day is half over before I even get out of bed. I was writing the nightbefore.What I want is driving me, it's a Morpheus-like god. Subtly forming andtransforming in dreams. Never concrete enough for me to take hold of it.My ex-girlfriend came over the other day. Having lived with her foralmost a year, I'm familiar with her struggle--the particular troubles hercharacter lends itself to.Heraclitus: Character is fate.Her struggle is transparent to me; just as mine is opaque. I don't seemy own struggle. She sees right though me. I am transparent to her.I told her that I believed each of of us were married to our ownstruggles. And we can't escape them because it is who we are.I don't think she was listening. She may have been listening to herstruggle.But I'm a philosopher and I like to think about life as if I were lookingdown over the whole perplexed human drama and adding mycommentary.Maybe there is no connection. Maybe some of us really don't have"struggles" as I like to think of them in the grand and over-archingsense.Right now I consider myself successful in one area of my life--mybusiness. But no matter how successful I am in that one area, I willalways look at the part where I feel I'm not successful."There must be something wrong. I've got to fix that."But what is success? And what am I not successful in?